


To My Dearest (Doofus) Husband (A.K.A Five times people told Markus to marry Connor, and the one time he did.)

by Lonely_Deer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor is a little shit, Fluff no angst, Hank is a Good Dad, M/M, Markus is a Dork, Marriage Proposal, North is done w/ them, RK800-52 is Nathaniel but the brothers only show up for like a couple paragraphs, RK800-60 is Clyde (can also be ignored), RK900 is Richard (but you guys can ignore that), i know this sounds shitty from the tags but let me explain-, luv him tho, no angst in MY HOUSE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 10:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20338495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonely_Deer/pseuds/Lonely_Deer
Summary: This is only a few chapters long because I'm still working on my other fic, I just really wanted to get this down, but this is basically just a sort five+1 style fanfic of domestic fluff between Markus and Connor and, of course, when Markus finally asks Connor to marry him. I hope you all enjoy this, I just really wanted to write pure fluff.





	To My Dearest (Doofus) Husband (A.K.A Five times people told Markus to marry Connor, and the one time he did.)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title: Dear Future Husband, Meghan Trainor

It was 11:23PM in Detroit, Michigan, when a tired android detective finally reached the home where he and his lover were staying.

He walked to the front door, reaching his hand out towards the scanner, and hummed when a voice spoke aloud "Welcome home, Connor."

Hearing those words in regards to this house always left him with a warm buzzing feeling in his chest and stomach, no matter how tired or upset he was at the time. He wonders if he'll ever get used to hearing those words.

The door opened, and the detective stepped inside as he took his coat off and reached for the coat rack, wanting to get out of his bothersome uniform as soon as possible.

He hung his coat up, and slowly walked up the stairs only to find his lover no where to be seen.

Looking around briefly, he wondered where his "husband" had wandered off to but, after deciding he was too exhausted to track down said android, he opted for going into the library to read a book or two.

At least, he was going to until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a head rest on his shoulder.

For a split second he jumped, and his fight reflexes kicked in, but after forcibly telling his systems to _'__calm the fuck down' _he sunk into the hug and let Markus pull him against his chest.

Bringing his own arms up to hold the ones around his waist, he sighed contently at the pressure and warmth against his back, something that he had learned is quite comforting for some obscure reason.

Chuckling quietly, the detective moved his head to motion to Markus that he was talking to him, and he asked the revolutionary why exactly he was hiding, and how many bodies would he have to bury.

The revolutionary simply laughed at his boyfriend's suggestion, and instead of answering he moved himself so now that he and the detective were facing, but with Markus' hands placed carefully on Connor's hips.

In a response to this, Connor placed his hands on the revolutionary's shoulders, finding the position quite comfortable.

"So, how was your day, oh love of my life?" Markus queried, not ignoring the blush that spread across the detective's cheeks.

Moving his arms so now they were wrapped around his boyfriend's neck loosely, Connor answered with two, eloquent, words:

"Horse shit."

Humming thoughtfully, Markus began swaying side to side with his lover, while closing his eyes and moving his feet in a manner that was something akin to a slow dance.

Getting the message, Connor also began to move, making sure he was in time with Markus so neither of them tripped.

As if on cue, the song "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur began to play from the speakers around the room, and the two of them began to match the pace of their dance to the beat of the song.

Markus looked back at Connor, and sang along to the song, very clearly feeling in a cheesy mood.

_"I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though I was enough._

_We danced the night away, we drank too much. I held you hair back when you were throwing up."_

Connor pressed his face into the nook of Markus' neck, enjoying the reverberations as the latter sang quite happily.

_"Then you smiled over your shoulder, For a minute I was stone cold-sober._

_I pulled you closer to my chest, and you asked me to stay over._

_I said, 'I already told ya, I think that you should get some rest.'"_

Markus smiled down at Connor, happy that he was feeling at peace.

_"I knew I loved you then, but you'd never know._

_Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go._

_I know I needed you, but I never showed._

_But I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old._

_Just say you won't let go, just say you won't let go."_

In the small second he had before the next verse started, Markus pressed a kiss to the side of Connor's head.

_"I'll wake you up with some breakfast in bed, I'll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head._

_And I'll take the kids to school, wave them goodbye._

_And I'll thank my lucky stars for that night._

_When you looked over your shoulder, for a minute I forget that I'm older._

_I wanna dance with you right now_."

To emphasise the words, Markus gently swung Connor around, so the two were now facing the opposite direction.

_"Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever, and I swear that everyday'll get better._

_You make me feel this way somehow._

_I'm so in love with you, and I hope you know, Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold._

_We've come so far my dear, look how we've grown._

_And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old._

_Just say you won't let go, just say you won't let go"_

Connor brought his face slightly further up, so that now his lips were placed under Markus' jawline, and he gently placed a few kisses there.

_"I wanna live with you, even when we're ghosts._

_'cause you were always there for me when I needed you most._

_I'm gonna love you till my lungs give out, I promise till death we part like in our vows._

_So I sang this song for you, now everybody knows-"_

Connor cooed lightly at the appropriate word change.

_"-Finally it's you and me, until we're grey and old._

_Just say you won't let go, just say you won't let go._

_Just say you won't let go._

_Oh, just say you won't let go."_

The song finished, and the music faded away as the two androids continued to embrace, neither of them particularly eager to let go.

Until Markus started getting a phone call, and so he had to step back away from Connor and move to a much more open space for him to pace around as he spoke. (This was a little quirk that Connor had noticed both he and Markus shared, but he found it so much more endearing whenever the revolutionary did it.)

And so Connor moved away towards the door, so he could go and get a few books. Markus noticed this, and instantly knew where Connor was going.

"Really, going to get paper-back books? Why not read something digitally." The revolutionary was now leaning against the drinks bar they had installed, apparently not talking to anyone just yet most likely because he was on hold.

Connor looked back at Markus, and pouted before explaining. "But I want to read detective books, and they're just not the same digitally." 

Markus scoffed, unsurprised by the genre of choice.

"Of course you want to read detective books."

Connor smiled. "Well, I am a detective after all."

Markus was leaning on his elbows now, and spoke teasingly. "And yet, you still can't solve the mystery of where the blankets keep going each night."

Connor poked his head back through the door way, and replied just as teasingly. "I've told you Markus, I need more evidence before I can accuse someone."

Markus dead panned. 

"Really, evidence?" 

Connor grinned. "Yeah evidence, like an eye-witness account."

Markus glared playfully at Connor, with exasperation dripping from his voice as he spoke. "I'll give you an eye-witness account. Me. Every. Single. Night."

Connor only grinned wider, and said in a falsely perplexed voice: "The investigation continues."

Markus shook his head and sighed, looking Connor in the eyes and telling him he's a little shit.

Connor's only reply was a breathy laugh and "love you too."

Markus didn't have time to come up with a comeback, however, because who ever had called him was now speaking to him.

Connor disappeared through the doorway and down the hall to the library, suddenly restless due to the lack of a presence of a book in his hands.

Sauntering down to the library, Connor passed his and Markus' bedroom, and decided it would probably be a good idea to get his glasses.

Now, some of you may be thinking: "But _why_ would he need glasses? He's an _android_!"

Well, the answer is quite simple, and quite unfortunate.

Connor has suffered quite a bit in his life so far, and not just at the hands of humans- even his own kind have damaged him in ways he'll never be able to repair.

On one evening, Connor had decided to walk to the park at night, and ended up being jumped by a bunch of angry deviants yelling at him about how "The deviant hunter can never be forgiven!" As they tore him a part in many different ways.

After they had decided they'd had their way with Connor, the deviants left the broken android in a pool of his own thirium, as he struggled to contact Markus and beg him for help.

The detective shuddered at the memory.

Markus had managed to reach Connor in time before he shut down, but even though Connor hadn't died- the road to recovery was a long winding path that he's still on.

When the deviants had attacked him, one of them had taken a baseball bat and began slamming it into the side of his head, causing irreparable damage to the optic and sensors there.

It didn't leave him blind, however it means that if the detective spends too much time reading or focusing on things that are too close to his face, it strains the eye and causes him immense levels of pain.

After much convincing from Hank and Markus, Connor went to see a technician who informed Connor that glasses were the only solution they had for the problem, without shutting Connor down and doing a factory reset in order to get to the delicate bio-components in his head.

Connor took the glasses hastily, not wanting to think about dealing with a factory reset.

The detective brought himself out of his thoughts as he reached for said glasses, and he stopped and looked around the room to take everything in.

The fact Markus and him were living together still left him dazed every now and again, and that of course resulted in Connor needing to solidify the concept whenever he felt somewhat disassociated.

He took a deep breath in, and began to look around the room and admire it's domestic glory.

_The walls are a beautiful beige colour, falling somewhere on the yellowish side of the spectrum, and are covered in multiple bright painted flowers that crawl up the walls in intricate patterns._

_The bed is placed in the middle of the room, directly below a large window with two smaller stained glass windows beside it._

_The two stained glass windows had been decorated by Markus and Connor themselves, with Connor's window having a depiction of the moon on his side of the bed, and Markus' window being the sun above his side of the bed._

_The window in the middle is mainly clear glass, aside from the painted stars and planets around its edges._

_On Markus' side of the room, there are many easels and canvases propped up in different places, with paint pallets and paint brushes strewn about alongside some half-filled cups of water. Paint splatters decorate the small, dark-oak desk and chair that resides somewhat to the left of his side, with paint stains also mottled into the carpet. It's bright and colourful, Markus' side of the room, and it reflects his lover so well that Connor can't help but adore it._

_He looks over to the right side of the room, his side, and he almost scoffs at how different it is to Markus'._

_Connor's side has a large, white work desk with a monitor and a black wheelie-chair tucked into a corner, with neat piles of paper and police reports stacked on the opposite side of the monitor, that also happens to have an A4 refill pad and a black mug full of ball-point pens. _

_There is nothing on the floor on his side of the room, not so much as a scrap of paper, a pen lid or a splodge of ink. I'ts pristine, and almost clinical, aside from the small succulent that sits happily on his desk, and the large dark-oak wood shelving behind that holds many more plants, including a few more succulents, a couple of cacti, a Chinese-money plant, an aloe-vera plant, a spider plant, a philodendron, and a Dieffenbachia, all placed in between and either side of many old and worn leather-bound books that Connor has picked from the library as his favourites- with Markus' consent, of course- and which he reads rather regularly, at least when he isn't writing himself. _

_Markus draws and paints, Connor reads and writes. They work well together, and so spectacularly so, that they've written and illustrated so many books for the younger and mentally challenged androids that they have a reputation for their favourite hobbies. _

_Connor hums thoughtfully to himself, wondering if maybe he should suggest the concept of retirement to his politician boyfriend, so the two of them in a few decades time could settle down and start a small business together._

_Just the two of them, doing what they love with who they love, and not having to worry about losing the other to a bullet._

The detective stepped out of his little trance, and decided that rather than going all the way to the library, he would rather just grab a book from his shelf.

Gently brushing past the healthy looking spider-plant, the detective reached for one of the oldest books on the shelf, that also happens to be one of the oldest in the library. Its a rough translation to Latin from an ancient Greek myth, the story of Prometheus, and it also happens to be Connor's all time favourite. Discarding the idea of reading a crime novel, the detective instead quietly chirped happily to himself, and gently brushed his fingers along the leaves of the aloe-vera plant as a sign of affection.

Now, Connor hadn't quite fully grasped why he loved plants and animals so much, but he pegged it down to something along the lines of his wish to nurture. His instincts ranged from injured animals he brought back from the side of the road, or insects he found drowning in the fish pond he and Markus kept, or even the small, pollution poisoned flowers he brings home from busy road-sides. Connor loves to care for things, and Markus loves to teach him how to do it. 

Connor has spent many of his sleepless nights reading online care-manuals (rather than just downloading them) and paper book versions from the library, just so he knows for a fact that he knows how to care for any living thing in need that might stumble through his door. He's spent many hours of his spare time toiling away at paper work, taking online tests and care-taking exams (he's passed every single one so far, and Markus made sure to let him know he's proud), and even going as far as to take online courses on how to care for animals, children and humans, and plants just so one day he and Markus may have the opportunity to adopt.

Connor knows that he wants a child, or children, and has known ever since he talked with Kara about Alice, ever since he took care of all of the orphaned child-models that reside in Jericho's new location, and even since he talked to the sweet human known as Rose that helped get Kara and her family across the Canadian border.

It's a strange thing, for Connor, to think about wanting to start a family when a few years ago he didn't believe himself to be alive.

But that was then, and this is now. And _now, _Connor is certain that he is alive and capable of love.

Softly pressing a kiss to the leaves of the aloe plant, Connor proudly trails his eyes across all of his fauna children, and gives them a few words of encouragement before heading back to the room where his boyfriend is undoubtedly still pacing.

The detective chuckled to himself softly, and continued his steady pace towards his lover. 

When Connor had finally reached the kitchen, he was rather amused to discover that the one who had been calling Markus had in fact been North, who had called Markus in order to gush at him about the date night she and her fiancee, Chloe, had just had. 

Connor always felt a swell of pride when he thought about Chloe being engaged, because not long after the revolution and Chloe had also deviated, Connor and her crossed paths one time and began to regale each other about how their lives had been so far. It didn't take long before the two began to realise that not only were they similar in the ways they tackled deviancy, but also similar in personality, and soon the two were almost inseparable much like a pair of bestfriends would be.

Connor was also proud of North, who had finally managed to warm up to him three short years ago (which also happened to be four years after the Revolution took place), and had in fact become Connor's wing-woman of sorts, just as he became her wing-man.

Soon the two were known as 'The murder twins' at Jericho, and they rolled with it so casually that the press had even began to get in on the joke. (Let it be noted, at first it had been an attempt to discredit the Revolution's progress, with mainstream media attempting to ridicule the two leaders. However, it seemed that a large portion of mainstream media's consumers were good hearted and simply saw the title as nothing more than a light hearted bit of banter, and even began selling little badges and stickers saying things like: 'The Murder Twins could kill me and I'd say thank you.' or 'Murder Twins Definition: Sexy As Hell.')

Not to mention, some how on a slightly drunken night of camaraderie, Connor had managed to convince North to join the police force with him, and with the constant need for new detectives and officers, Fowler had agreed to let North on the team. Tina and North had gotten along like a wildfire the day North joined, and Connor revelled in the satisfaction of seeing Gavin being ditched by his so called partner-in-crime.

Now on more cases than not, Connor and North were the ones to handle homicide cases (not just android) rather than Connor and Hank. Hank was extremely relieved with this development, because it hadn't been long before North joined that Hank had been pestering his adoptive son to 'make some friends' much to Connor's dismay.

This also gave Hank time to decide what he wanted to do with his life, and as a result retired from the police force last year. 

Going back to Connor and North, the two of them had both been likened to a pair out of a Film Noir, and so, one fateful Halloween the two decided to step up to their shady-buddy-cop-probably-ex-assassin personas, and went to the party dressed in full on 1940's private investigator get ups, black trench-coats and fedoras and all.

That also happened to be the same night that Chloe and North got together, with Chloe coincidentally coming in all dolled-up to look like she has also just crawled out of a Film Noir, but rather than as a detective, more in the style of a protagonist's love interest.

(It wasn't actually a coincidence, Connor and Chloe had been planning it behind North's back as a way to finally get Chloe and North dating.)

Connor also remembers that night for many other reasons, including when he had found himself on one of the balconies at Markus' mansion, glass of whiskey in hand and leaning over the bars slightly, looking out at the garden and watching all of the beautiful fairy lights he and Markus had set up the night prior.

The two had not been dating then, and wouldn't be for another few months before a fateful incident with an assassination attempt being foiled by Connor, and more than a couple bullets being dug out of Connor's chest, shoulder and hip. It had hurt, of course, it had felt like torture. But Connor was just glad Markus was safe.

_Anyway_.

Connor had been stood there on the balcony, admiring the fairy lights and the cool night air, when he'd heard footsteps approach him and stand somewhere to his right. He payed no mind to the new company, rather intoxicated by the air and wind blowing against his skin. However, the figure beside him let out a low, warm chuckle and Connor instantly shifted his attention to the revolutionary beside him, his chest filling with a warm, delicate feeling.

Markus stood there, dressed up much like a 1950's mafia boss, and Connor felt himself let out a quiet giggle.

_It seemed the night was full of coincidences._

"Well, well, well, _detective. _Who would've thought that we'd meet here, same place, at such similar times?" Markus teased, seemingly stepping into the persona of a mafia boss quite happily.

Connor scoffed.

"_Tsk_, don't get your hopes up, _deviant. _If I had known you'd had the same plan as I, I would have simply gone to the other balcony."

Markus smirked.

"Which one?"

Connor turned back to the scene before him, a small smile on his lips and a light blush on his cheeks.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know."

The response elicited another gorgeous laugh from the man beside him, and Connor stepped a few inches closer to the sound.

_It really was a beautiful night._

Markus had just been about to say something, when suddenly Connor was being called away by North, most likely to take pictures with her or to help her fix something she'd just broken.

Either way, Markus was filled with a slight sombreness as he watched the ethereal detective slink away, and almost jumped out of his skin when a warm hand clapped onto his shoulder, and Josh from behind him cheerily (and slightly drunkenly) exclaim: "Just marry him already!"

Markus sighed longingly.

"Maybe one day, Josh. But for now I'd just like to take him out on a date."

A small smile graced the revolutionary's lips.

_Maybe one day._


End file.
